


Jumping on the Bandwagon!

by StargateNerd



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 12:56:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/419154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StargateNerd/pseuds/StargateNerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So I've recently become interested -read: obsessed- with Hetalia, so within are various drabbles of whatever comes to mind, ranging from fluff to smut. Requests are allowed, will mostly feature yaoi pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shooting Range

**Author's Note:**

> Near the end of my junior year I was introduced to the wonder that is Hetalia. This is where the name of this drabble set comes from, as I am basically jumping on the Hetalia bandwagon x3

  
"Veee," Italy whined as he barely grazed the cardboard cutout target that currently looked like France. Shooting was so hard! Why couldn't Germany just leave him to his white flags? After all, that and art were what he did best.

The brunette's arms wobbled slightly, still suffering from the recoil of the handgun.

 _Really, if I can barely handle this, how am I ever going to get the hang of this?_  Veneziano thought despondently.  _Germany's got a great military and Japan has his navy; even my fratello is better at fighting than me - he at least knows how to use a gun properly._

Thinking of his brother brought up an argument they'd had recently. It was, as usual, on the subject of the younger Italy brother's choice of company. Romano had had some especially choice words for Germany and his opinion on the man who was 'corrupting' his innocent little brother.

Veneziano's grip on his gun tightened as an uncharacteristic surge of annoyance ran through him. It was  _his_  life, and even if together he and his brother made up one country, he could do whatever the hell he liked!

Four quick shots emptied the rest of the clip into the target. Two of the bullets had missed, embedding themselves to the wall on the right side of the target. One hit the cardboard France in his left arm and the last bullet buried itself in the blonde's chest. It wasn't in any of Germany's designated 'kill zones' (outlined in red permanent marker), but far better than Veneziano had managed any time before. He sighed as he let his gun-wielding arm fall to his side.

"Italy?"

The sudden voice made the brunette jump, and a very unmanly squeak escaped him. He laughed as he saw who it was. "Hey Germany, is it lunch time yet?"

"Nearly. You're getting better," the blonde commented as he observed the target set up.

"Veeee," Veneziano whined as his previous bad mood slipped away.

"One of the main problems you're having is your stance," Germany observed. Italy turned questioningly only to find the taller man had moved into his personal space, his chest pressed flat against the Italian's back.

Veneziano nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment as his heart pounded against his chest at the other man's closeness.

"Your feet are too close together and your arms aren't level enough," Germany lectured as he nudged the Italian's left leg farther from its counterpart and straightened his arms out so there was barely a bend at the elbow. "Unless you're aiming for a headshot, always aim just a little higher than you think necessary in order to compensate for trajectory."

"Ahh, Germany," Veneziano stuttered slightly as the blonde man moved his hands so that they were gripping the gun along with Italy's. "My clip's empty."

"Oh," the German commented. He craned his head to get a look at the box where he'd put ammo earlier. It was empty. "How long have you been at this?"

"I think an hour or so," the brunette replied.

"I guess it's time for lunch then," Germany reasoned. He let go of Veneziano's arms and moved away, stopping when the younger man didn't almost immediately follow. "Italy?"

"Ah, yes, lunch!" Italy shook himself out of his stupor, laying his gun down in the empty ammo box before running after Germany. "Vee, Germany, can I make pasta? Maybe some garlic bread too?" The blonde man nodded and blushed slightly as the brunette latched onto his arm with a content "Veeee~".


	2. Made For Something Greater

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so SG-chan was plunnying for her newest story idea, a Hetalia/SG-1 crossover, when she came up with an awesome idea! Read on and you'll see what it was. Also, fail cryptic-like is fail x3;;
> 
> Can be seen as HRExChibitalia if you squint.

" _Come with me child."_

Child? Huh, no one's called me a child in a long time. No one's ever  _seen_  me as one, no one but her…

" _I can help you move on to greater things."_

Greater things? What could be greater than becoming one of the greatest empires in the world?

" _There isn't much time! The others of your kind will sign the document of your dissolution any day now, you must come now!"_

Will I be able to see her again? I have to tell her…

" _Yes child, you may see your beloved again. Quickly now, or the others will notice I am not where I once was."_

What do I call you?

" _My name is Oma… Oma Desala."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kay, so basically SG-chan has a theory that HRE was offered ascension by Oma. HRE accepted, broke some rules in an attempt to help Italy with something, and descended as Germany, his memories wiped clean.


	3. Recognizing Awesomeness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a bit of PruCan goodness (though it's mainly just shounen-ai hints) for y'all for being such nice people and reviewing so much for my other stories! ^^ Anywho, this is just a little 'first meeting' fic for everyone's favorite Canadian and his totally awesome boytoy - er, friend xD

  
"Kesesesese! Those fools will regret kicking out the great and awesome Prussia!"

Said 'great and awesome Prussia' was pacing back and forth in front of the room that currently housed the World Meeting. His idiot little brother had said that since he technically didn't have his own country anymore he didn't have to attend.

"Stupid West; you really think the awesome me would be deterred by that?" he had shouted arrogantly.

The point had been driven home by Hungary's frying pan, the only reason he was out here right now.

"Demon bitch," the albino grumbled. He stopped as he felt something run into him. "Oi, who dares cross the great and awesome me?" Prussia snarled as he turned.

"I-I'm sorry!" Sprawled on the floor was a blond wearing glasses –

"You look an awful lot like America," Prussia frowned. "I don't think I've seen you around before, though."

"O-oh, I-I'm Canada," the blond replied as he gathered his papers up. "America's my little brother."

"Hey, I've got a younger brother too! He's okay – he'll never be as awesome as me of course, but he's okay," Prussia smirked.

"Oh, so are you Prussia?" Canada asked timidly. "America's always going on about how he 'totally won a victory for the stars and stripes over Germany and his freaky albino brother.'" Canada smiled apologetically towards Prussia.

"Man, how does a guy as unawesome as that have a brother like you?" Prussia wondered, the derogatory description of him not even bothering him (cause really, he dealt with that sort of stuff coming from Hungary and Austria, not to mention Russia, all the time).

"W-well, most people don't notice me," Canada blushed at the compliment as he hugged his papers closer to his chest.

"I like you Canada," Prussia decided as he threw an arm around the blond, who let out a squeak. "You're way more awesome than your unawesome brother, you don't immediately make fun of me – not that I care, I'm too awesome to be affected by something so trivial – and you make a cute sound like Gilbird!"

Canada just noticed the small and, he had to admit, adorable chick nestled in the albino's hair.

"C'mon Birdie, let's ditch this meeting!"

Canada let out another squeak as Prussia dragged him past the door that led to the meeting room. "W-wait, people are going to miss you, aren't they?"

"Nah, I got kicked out," Prussia assured him. "I'm gonna teach you the fundamentals of being awesome Birdie! That way you'll be worthy of hanging out with me! You'll probably never quite live up to my awesomeness of course, but we can definitely make you more awesome than that  _arschloch_  America!"

"Maple!" Canada squeaked as he was bodily hauled away, thinking:  _I knew I should've set my alarm for earlier this morning!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arschloch is German for 'asshole' BTW. And I found that using Eudict . com, so feel free to correct me if I'm wrong. Seriously, these two are so cute, and I love them within the deepest recesses of my soul and beyond ^^ Also, SG-chan means no offense to Americans (funny, considering she is one xD) or Germans/Prussians - the guys just don't know when to quit is all x3;;


	4. The Question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is mainly because SG-chan was watching World Series with her sis (she got the English dub as a late Christmas present) and my God, Sweden's English voice is... *melts into a little puddle of fangirl goo* Just, yeah, it's hot. Seriously, I love the Sweden/Finland scene in the World Series dub to death it's so adorable! I just wish Poland still had his old voice actor; I don't like his new one...

 

Tino frowned as Berwald nearly dropped the bowl. All day the larger man had been acting strangely – almost as though he was trying to tiptoe around Tino. This really didn't make much sense, since Tino wasn't angry at Berwald at all. Quite the opposite really, as Berwald had finished fixing the roof just two days ago (that was the last time he invited Lukas over to drink).

Summoning up all his Finnish courage (that wasn't in a bottle) Tino placed himself in front of Berwald as he finished drying a dish. "Berwald, what's the matter?" the Finn asked, violet eyes filled with worry.

"Nothin'," the Swede muttered, avoiding meeting his lover's eyes. "'m fine."

"The hell you are," Tino scowled. "You've been practically tiptoeing around me for the past day or so! This isn't like you." He grasped one of those larger hands, calloused from hours of both sword-wielding and carpentry, with both his smaller hands. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I- well, I mean," Berwald  _blushed_  of all things. "I noticed y' don't like be'n called m'wife, and I was thinking about ask'n y'…" his speech trailed off into more mumbling.

"Berwald?" Tino squeezed his hand slightly.

"T-Tino…" Berwald stuttered slightly. "I-I'd like for y' t' be m'wife. Legally."

Tino was rather speechless, having expected any number of things, but certainly never  _this_.

"Y-you don't have t', I mean, I don't even have a proper ring, and I know y' get embarassed when people even hint about us, so-"

"Yes," Tino whispered.

"What?" Berwald couldn't believe his ears.

"Yes!" Tino cried, throwing his arms around Berwald's neck. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!" The Finn began planting kisses all over Berwald's face as he murmured his happiness over and over.

The Swede could've burst from hearing Tino's acceptance. He'd been afraid that he'd fly into a rage at being treated (somewhat) like a woman.

As if reading his thoughts, Tino pulled back and said, very seriously, "But there's no way in hell I'm wearing a dress."

Although a part of Berwald felt quite disappointed (he thought Tino would look quite sexy in a dress), he was just happy that Tino had said 'yes'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never want to have to write Berwald's speech again x( Knowing how much SG-chan loves this pairing, and taking into account that what she should do is normally never what she actually does, I'll probably be bitching about writing Berwald's speech again in the future x3 If you couldn't understand what he was saying though, just PM me and I'll tell you ^^;


	5. Separation and Heartbreak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so here's some USUK as I promised a while ago x3;; And it's angst! My twin should be so proud of me x3

Unmanageable locks of sunlit gold

The seven seas you sailed, oh so bold

It used to be that all my thoughts

Were of you, before I threw in my lots

With him, your deepest, greatest foe

You probably thought I could not sink more low

But now I go to gain my sovereignty

From your controlling ways and taxed tea

No longer am I your beloved 'younger brother'

To coddle and spoil like you were my surrogate mother

I bid you farewell now, in a time most dire,

Proving you wrong as I leave the British Empire

***Switching to England's POV***

From the first day I met you

In wheat fields under a sky of bright blue

I knew you were mine to protect and hold,

Mine to guide and cherish as you grew old

And wise enough to make your own decisions.

Never would I have thought it would lead to this division.

My dearest Columbia, you know that I

Never meant to hurt you, to just stand by

While across the ocean revolutions spark

I truly didn't want to leave you in the dark.

Darling, stop this childish tantrum and come

Back to me, back to the place you call home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so we were reading some of Geoffrey Chaucer's work in Brit Lit, and my wonderful teacher said we had to 'immortalize' someone, that is, write 12 lines, 6 couplets, in Chaucer's rhyming style. I went over the top and did two, one for Alfred and one for Arthur. As you can tell, this is from the time of the Revolutionary War ;_; Did SG-chan mention how awesome her Brit Lit teacher is? He is. On our days off we watch Sherlock. That's how awesome he is.


	6. Florida Export

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the smut SG-chan promised to make up for the angst! ^^ Though it's not really smut :\ Eh, just read it and decide for yourself.

"Fuck!" Arthur hissed as his back hit the wall. He glared at Alfred but the sour expression was wiped off his face as it was kissed away by the brash young man. "Could you try not to break my spine?" the Briton hissed.

"Thought you liked it rough," Alfred chuckled hoarsely, nuzzling at Arthur's neck. "Cause ya sure weren't complaining last night."

"Shut up," Arthur ordered, and Alfred obeyed, if only because if he got the older man too pissed off then, drunk as he was, he was liable to abandon Alfred and go find Francis or someone else instead. The American came back to himself when Arthur suddenly turned the tables so now Alfred was against the wall.

"Wh- Arthur!" he hissed as he felt his belt being unbuckled. "Not here! We're behind the back of the fucking bar for crying out loud!"

"Shut up," Arthur muttered as he slapped away Alfred's hands. "You started it, I'm going to finish it."

"Can't we finish it at your hou- shit!" Alfred swore as Arthur reached down and just grabbed his dick. "Christ, warn a guy first, would ya?"

"Shut up," Arthur reiterated, laying sloppy kisses along Alfred's jawline. "'m working."

"Well, work faster," Alfred huffed, finally giving in because Arthur certainly wasn't known as 'the erotic ambassador' for nothing.

"All in good time," Arthur drawled, smirking slightly. "You never were patient, even as a child."

"Dude, you're killing me," Alfred groaned. "Seriously, kids are a no-go here."

"Oh, belt up," Arthur chided, pulling Alfred's boxers down as he knelt. "Least I'm not as bad as Spain."

"Dude, c'mon; no one is a bad as Spain," Alfred scoffed. This was immediately followed by a moan as Arthur ran a finger up Alfred's length.

"You know, I've never blown you before," Arthur mused. He leered upwards, making Alfred gulp. "Let's rectify that, shall we?"

"Shit," Alfred breathed as Arthur took him down. "Fucking shit Arty – anngh!" The American moaned as Arthur did  _something_  with his tongue that made stars light up behind Alfred's eyes. "Fuck you're good Arty," he breathed, his hips bucking forward as he buried a hand in messy blond hair.

Arthur hollowed out his cheeks and  _sucked_ , making Alfred bite his other hand to keep from being too loud. "Shit man, you do that too much more and I'm gonna cum," Alfred gasped, looking down at Arthur, who simply gave an amused sounding hum that made Alfred's head toss back against the brick wall. "Ar-Arthur, I'm c-close," he breathed heavily as he felt the Briton swallow around him.

Alfred gave a cry that was only partially muted by his fists as he came down Arthur's throat. The teen's eyes were only half-open as he recovered from his orgasm when he saw Arthur's expression. "Whassa matter?" he slurred.

Arthur glared at him before he spat out Alfred's cum, white staining the already filthy ground. "You taste like fucking orange juice!" he barked.

Alfred blinked in surprise once, twice, before he shrugged. "Well, that is what comes from Florida," he reasoned.

Arthur slapping him with a cry of, "Fucking git!" was answer enough to what he thought of Alfred's joke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Naughty Alfred, you should know better than to tease Iggy like that! Especially since now he's drunk and horny... Hmm, maybe SG-chan should write a sequel? ;3
> 
> Anyway, this idea has actually been floating around SG-chan's head for a while. See, at school breakfasts they give us these little cartons of orange juice, and the brand name is "Mr. Florida" or something like that. So one morning my twin Sere-chan pointed this out to me, and then SG-chan's like, "Hey, you know what else comes from Florida? ;3" So, yeah. Hope you all liked it! x3

**Author's Note:**

> Ignore all the stuff about the guns, or feel free to correct me. I know pretty much nothing about guns save what a friend of mine has told me while we were working on a DCMK/SG-1 collaboration. Which reminds me, I have a hell of a lot of stories to work on...


End file.
